LYSANDER
The silence pressed against my ears like water.
I stood over Hazel's body and felt nothing. That should have alarmed me. It should have triggered something human buried beneath the wolf, but there was only the mechanical understanding that she'd stopped breathing. That her chest no longer rose and fell. That the pillow in my hands carried the weight of what I'd done.
I dropped it.
The fabric landed on her face with a soft sound that strangely echoed too loud in the stillness. My father's corpse lay sprawled several feet away, one arm stretched toward where Hazel had been when I first grabbed her. The hole in his chest gaped like an accusation. Blood had stopped flowing from it sometime during her final moments, cooling into something that looked more like paint than life.
Two bodies… Two lives... I had done this.
I'd killed two people.
